Tragedy Can't Slow The Pace At Indy

May 19, 1996|By Skip Myslenski, Tribune Staff Writer.

INDIANAPOLIS — Never does death simply stop by, and then sneak silently off on cat's paws. It instead lingers like an odious houseguest, like some bad dream from an endless night, and through those long days that follow its visit, its shadow casts a stark and sobering pall.

That was evident Saturday at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, where early Friday afternoon 37-year-old Scott Brayton died in a crash as freakish as it was fatal. He was a popular figure here, a veteran of 14 500s and set to start his 15th from the pole, and outside the garages of his Team Menard were scattered reminders of his tragic demise.

An oversized U.S. flag hung there at half-mast, and four orange poster boards were taped to the door of C-16. A Menard mechanic had put up the first of these early this Saturday morning, and across its top had written, "We mourn along with the Braytons the passing of Scott. We will carry on his spirit now and always."

Pots of flowers stood like pallbearers on the hard concrete beneath these posters, and as the people who work for Team Menard disappeared into their garages, each wore a black wristband. That had been the idea of team owner John Menard, whose three surviving drivers--Tony Stewart, Eddie Cheever and Mark Dismore--will wear black armbands when they race in the 500 come May 26.

There would also be a memorial service Saturday night for Brayton, and that would be a very public recognition of death's recent visit. But aside all of these commemorations, in stark juxtaposition to these many signs of grief, reality still flourished and was busily at work.

A hard edge existed here that could not be missed, a hard edge that clearly separated past sorrow from future hopes. Death. Death is a fact of life in the racing world and that is just what Team Menard manager Larry Curry acknowledged when he talked to his troops at 7 a.m. Saturday. They were gathered together for the first time since Brayton's death, yet here his message to them was, yes, we respect Scott, but we have to remember what we're here for.

They, like all others on hand, are here to run and win the 500, and that is why--even on the day after his teammate's death--Stewart rolled back onto the track and turned some practice laps.

"You have to understand," owner Ron Hemelgam, who has three cars in the field, explained, "a person who's a gloom-and-doom person could never be involved in this sport. This sport is run totally on optimism."

There was, then, no wonder over the official cause of Brayton's death. That announcement is expected to be made Tuesday by the Marion County coroner's office. Nor was there any apprehension about running on Firestone tires, even though one deflated rapidly during Brayton's fatal run.

"We don't know what punctured this tire and we may never know," Firestone Vice President Trevor Hoskins said.

That is what sent Brayton spinning to his death, yet there in the Firestone garages was a stack of four new tires marked, "Save for Menard 20 (Stewart's car)."

Certainly there was no greater concern over speed or safety, a pair of topics much discussed these last weeks while record practice laps were being turned at the Speedway. There was, in fact, talk only of going faster.

Nobody was daunted when early Saturday, rookie Dan Drinan, a former mechanic for Brayton, crashed and suffered a concussion and multiple fractures. The car, bearing a new inscription "in memory of Scott Brayton," appeared to hit much harder than the crash that killed Brayton, but it was going about 30 m.p.h. slower.

"It's a very unfortunate situation. I really feel for the Brayton family," Billy Boat said after qualifying at the average speed of 221.824 m.p.h. "But as a driver you have to put it in the back of your head, strap back in and push ahead. It's part of the sport, an unfortunate part of the sport. But you have to have confidence to know when you push in at 230 you'll come out the other end."

And your run?

"I definitely wanted to be faster. You always want to be faster," said Boat.

"It's tough when you lose someone," Brad Murphey said after qualifying at 226.053 m.p.h. "But that's part of racing, I guess. This is what we love, and we know the risks. That doesn't stop you anyway. If it did, you wouldn't climb back in the car."

Murphey insists the envelope must be pushed further, the deaths must be accepted, and as he talks he is the perfect symbol of that hard edge that cuts through Indy the day after death's visit.

"But the objective of the game," he says "is to win, and if you're going to win, you've got to go faster.

"Every time one of these guys jumps in a car, he's taking risks. But don't you think football players are hitting harder than they did before? The reason is they want to be the best. That's what brings these guys out, to be the best, so they run faster.